Bizarre Undertakings
by AngelMusic
Summary: Our story takes place one hundred years after the Phantom's death, young Christine Deia finds the story her life changes. EC Chapter nine finnished to be posted soon. Review people!
1. The First Meeting

A/N: What would happen if Christine had heard of Erik beforehand? Read the books and seen the musical? Not only had heard of him but had often dreamt of meeting him? I'm not sure but this is what might happen. Oh yes I use my Screen name in here only because I did not want to make one up or anything and yes FF.N is mentioned in this story a few times. Ok I do make mentions of things that happened in the Leroux and Kay books, certain scenes are taken out of the books but put in my own words. And when this happens even the characters are aware of what I am doing. I am sorry if from time to time Erik seems a little OOC... But he gets put into some odd situations with some very odd... happenings.

Chapter one: The First Meeting,

A young woman of about 18 was sitting in her room, and she was extremely _bored!_

'L'ennui' is the word that the French give this tedious emotion,' she thought to herself.

All right, so she wasn't French. She had actually come across the word while reading _The Phantom of the Opera_ Oh, well. It didn't matter. It was already two o 'clock in the morning, and she had school in a few hours! She really needed to get some sleep, but she had a feeling that this wouldn't be happening anytime soon.

She gazed into her sun shaped mirrors that hung above her bed and hummed 'Angel of Music' from the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical of _The Phantom of the Opera_. She studied her reflection with curiosity. The girl had long wavy brown hair with a pair of chocolate brown eyes to match. She was quite pretty and was told this often. But more so than her looks, her skills in writing were praised most often.

Unexpectedly a loud crash could be heard from the bathroom. A few moments later, a dark figure glided into her room. The girl sat straight up, shock consuming her; her body stiffened.

'Who or what is that?!' Her thoughts raced through her head wildly.

"Mademoiselle?" The dark figure asked quietly in a voice of unearthly beauty.

The girl replied, "You're in my room, Monsieur, but please tell me, what is your name, **_and _** why your in here?"

The dark figure's voice said quietly in her right ear "I am called Erik, mademoiselle, what are _you _known as?"

"Christine," She replied confidently. "It's odd though because the girl from a book that I read often, _The Phantom of the Opera_, is also called Christine... although my pen name on is AngelMusic. "

"The Phantom of the Opera?! I _am_ the Phantom of the Opera!" The volume of Erik's voice grew louder, as he blinked slightly. "I asked for your name, Mademoiselle, not your history." His voice had taken on a more sarcastic tone, although it remained beautiful and majestic.

"Please don't shout, Erik!" Christine said. "And what do you mean _you're_ the Phantom?" She inquired, wrinkling a brow. Christine emitted a soft sigh, her eyes wandering over his mysterious appearance. "You asked. You asked whom I was known as. I told you. _That's_ what I'm known as." The girl paused, feeling herself relax a bit. "If you're who you say you are, whom else are you known as?" She presented him with a small smile, as if she were testing him.

Erik hesitated a moment before replying softly, "The Angel of Music, the Angel of Doom, the Angel of Death, the Opera Ghost, Erik, and the Phantom of the Opera!" Erik answered indignantly, lifting an eyebrow.

It soon grew silent. Several moments passed, and a strange tapping on the window interrupted the awkward silence. Christine went to open the window above her bed, but tripped on something, banging her head against the wall. Rubbing her head, she turned to see the cause of her tumble - Erik had purposely tripped her.

"Ouch! Goshdang it Erik! Why did you do that?!" She demanded harshly, her face turning various shades of red.

"You're accusing me mademoiselle? Of what? I did nothing." Came the dull reply just dripping with sarcasm.

"You tripped me!" Christine pouted.

"I did no such thing!" Erik insisted.

"Just what are you doing here, Monsieur le Fantom de l'Opera?" She decided that it was best to change the subject before anything else occurred. Hesitating, she added, "And how did you get in here?"

Erik chuckled, a deep melodic laugh, and disappeared; however, his voice lingered a moment longer. "We shall meet again mademoiselle! Farewell, child!"

Christine pouted, for she had just readied herself to show him some pictures that she had downloaded from the Internet. She had convinced herself it was a dream anyway, so why not have a little fun with it?

'Oh well,' she sighed inwardly and climbed into bed. 'I have school in the morning anyway...'

Christine lay back in her bed, simply looking at a picture of Raoul Vicomte de Chagny in a noose. After many minutes of musing over the picture, she fell asleep; a smile remained on her lips, as she dreamt that the Phantom of the Opera would return to her, teach her to sing like an angel, and make her his bride. Perhaps, another dream like she just had would be fine with her, as well.

A/N: Yeah, I know, bad with foreshadowing, right? In any event, I hoped you liked the chapter. Sorry if this was short, but the bonus is you don't have to wait for the next one! (And if you didn't see any foreshadowing in here then wow you must be dense!) Any ways...please review! Yea the little purple button on the bottom...Click it! Ya know ya want to! Oh! And please...no flames... (Actually if someone could tell me what that phrase means... I'd be really grateful.)

Okay she's tired, it's two o'clock in the morning and she's not thinking too clearly. I know I often mutter nonsense or say stuff that I wouldn't usually say when I'm that tired.


	2. The Next day

Chapter two: The Next Day

The next day at school, Christine continued to think about the odd occurrence the previous night, wondering if it had all been a dream. She had often dreamt of the so-called 'Angel of Music' and the Phantom of the Paris Opera House; perhaps, her imagination was helped by the fact that she lived within walking distance of an Opera, which housed a very good company. Ultimately, she came to the conclusion that it was simply a dream and nothing more.

Throughout her classes, the girl merely daydreamt, not soaking in one thing from the excessive talking of her teachers, she went to lunch. During this time, Christine calmly took out a pen and paper. Although she was a reasonable singer and had acquired a job at the nearby Opera, she also happened to be a fairly good writer; Christine often submitted work to various websites under the pen name she used the majority of the time: AngelMusic. Of course, she only wrote Phan phics, but was it her fault that her current muse wore a mask?

Three, dreadfully long classes and various reprimands from her teachers later, Christine hastily grabbed her coat and dashed from the school. Hopping into a taxi, she quietly enjoyed the ride, as the car glided down the street towards the Opera House. As mentioned before, she had obtained a job there... She worked as, well, as a maid. Whenever someone inquired if she presently had a job or not, she would simply inform them that she worked at the local Opera House. Yes, when one first hears this, one automatically assumes that she was a performer there.

Oh, well.

Emerging from the taxi, she entered the enormous building, her thoughts wandering. Yes, she was a maid and proud of it! She was blessed to be able to see _every_ thing! Every day, Christine set her eyes on an exciting musical or a tear-jerking opera. She thoroughly cleaned all of the Prima Donnas' dressing rooms and assured herself that everything was neatly organized. In addition to a moderately good paycheck for a senior in high school, Christine was permitted to attend every performance and rehearsal. By now, the girl had memorized all of the songs that were performed there. Considering the fact that she was there every day, she had listened to them more than once; and a person could usually find her humming them as she cleaned.

Every day in school, she astounded her French teacher with her continuously growing language. Since many of the songs that the Opera sang were in French, she was constantly learning more.

Christine gently shook her head in order to clear her thoughts, as she prepared to dust one of the empty dressing rooms. While dusting, she began to hum "Angel of Music" - her favorite song from the Andrew Lloyd Webber _Phantom_ musical. While she hummed the soft melody, her thoughts drifted to some of the strangest ideas... What if she were made a part of the cast of _The Phantom of the Opera_?

Oh, if only she could be a part of the cast! She clasped her hands together, as she emitted a sigh full of longing. Her eyes scanned the dressing room. This room would suit her _perfectly_! Everyone had claimed that the 'Opera Ghost' supposedly haunted this specific room. Ha! A ghost! This silly rumor had suddenly been spread, as soon as someone mentioned that the Opera was putting on the production of _Phantom_. With another sigh, she rolled her eyes. Well, that rumor would be perfectly fine with her - because that would insure that she would be left well alone.

Her smile vanished, as Christine lowered her eyes to the floor. She would never be part of the cast, and she was only foolish to think that she could ever be good enough to! Christine's steps came to an abrupt halt, as something shattered her thoughts.

Where was that music coming from? Oh! It was such beautiful music; it was as if it was sent from heaven itself! She frowned, carelessly dropping the rag she had been using. There could be no one here. She was the only one who had a shift right now, other than the guards... but they couldn't sing or even _hold_ an instrument!

Poking her russet head outside, she peered at the hallway. No one. Gently closing the door, she leaned her ear against the wall. It didn't sound like someone was singing in either of the next rooms.

"Hello, Christine, my dear. I said we would meet again, did I not?" The voice came from nowhere or so it seemed.

"Who's there?! How do you know my name?!" Christine asked, becoming more than a little frightened. Wringing her hands, her eyes darted madly about the room, searching for any sign of life.

"You do not remember me, my dear? You do not remember your Angel? You do not remember our little meeting last night?" The voice chuckled quite unpleasantly, sending a shiver down Christine's spine.

The sound of the cold laughter terrified the poor girl, and her face turned as white as a sheet. "No! It cannot be! The Phantom of the Opera?" Christine was utterly shocked. If her guess was correct, then something inevitably strange was going to occur.

"Yes, my dear, you are correct. I am sometimes called that. I am quite glad that you remember me. I noticed that you were humming 'Angel of Music' from the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical, my dear." Erik replied with the same cold laughter as before.

Her chocolate eyes broadened, as she merely gaped. He had heard her! The Phantom of the Opera, the so-called 'Angel of Music' had heard _her_ humming! Surely, she was to be mocked now! She couldn't sing and for the Phantom to hear her singing one of the songs about him, oh... This was going to be embarrassing. Her face reddened, as she averted her eyes elsewhere. Christine's head began to spin. She anticipated his cruel laughter, at her expense, to begin again. Surprisingly, it did not.

"Christine, my dear, are you all right? You look as though you had seen a ghost!" Erik said, suppressing a chuckle at the irony of the words he just used. However, it did appear as if he was worried about her.

"Huh? Oh! Yes, I'm all right... I-I- I'm just in shock." She stammered, shuffling her feet.

"Well in that case, my dear, I would like to offer you singing lessons. Your voice is quite beautiful, but forgive me for this Mademoiselle, it is quite obviously untrained. I could make you great! You have heard of Christine Daaè, I suppose?" He paused, watching the girl fervently nod her head. "You have? Good. I believe that I could make you even better than she was!**** You don't believe me?" Inquired Erik, when he saw that Christine was now shaking her head.

"Me? Take singing lessons from you? But why me? I can't sing!" Christine exclaimed in a rush of disbelief and excitement.

"Why ever do you say that, my dear?" Came the reply of an exceptionally stunned Erik.

"I can't sing! I have no voice! That's why, Monsieur."

"Child, I have heard you singing and humming quite often as you worked in this Opera House. Believe me, I am a very good judge of voices. You _can_ sing, and you _do_ have a voice!" There was something in Erik's voice that would brook no contradiction as he tried to reassure her. So, Christine did the only thing she could do in the face of such awesome authority.

She bowed her head and whispered her thanks.

"I am honored monsieur. Thank you." Her voice was faint.

"Very well then, my dear. When would you like to begin your lessons?" Erik questioned, attempting to speed up this meeting, for he knew she had to return to her work. His voice had grown softer and even more entrancing during their conversation. When he sighed, Christine's arms were immediately covered in goose bumps. She tilted her head, as her dark curls brushing against her shoulders. There was something in his voice - some emotion that she couldn't quite define.

Christine glanced at her watch, suddenly realizing how much time had already passed. Gasping, her voice sounded rushed and breathless. "Will you be here in about an hour, Monsieur? I have a break then, but if I don't get some more work done around here, I could lose my job!" Obvious paranoia overcame her.

"Yes, of course, my dear. I will be waiting for you. One more thing, Mademoiselle... You cannot tell anyone about me. Do I make myself clear?" Erik demanded harshly, the previous softness in his voice instantly dissolving.

"Crystal clear, Erik. I would not dream of telling. I've read the books enough times to know that!" She murmured with a quiet, wry laugh.

Behind the mirror, Erik smirked. His smirk soon transformed into a small smile, as he rested his slender fingers on the cold glass. She was so beautiful... His eyes longingly drank in her lovely sight. Her coffee-colored curls framed her rosy face, as her dark eyes seemed to always be smiling. And her laugh... Her laugh was like the sound of angels singing. He knew who she was...

After an antagonizing hour passed, Christine returned to the room. Yes, considering it was her break, now was her chance to eat something; yet she really wanted to get to her singing lessons. Erik's hazel eyes darted up when she sauntered in. He had been reading a very good libretto and synopsis of Faust. Of course, already knew the story by heart; reading it merely helped to pass the time.

"Erik? Are you here?" Christine had yet to ask where he hid. She didn't even bother. She had easily made that assumption by reading the books. This room matched the description of Christine Daaè's dressing room, so she assumed that he hid behind the mirror.

"I am here, my dear. Shut the door, if you do not mind." He paused, watching her petite form as she closed the door. "Thank you. Now then, in a few months the cast will be performing a new opera. This one is oddly enough based on Gaston Leroux's infamous book. My story - _The Phantom of the Opera_. I have a copy of the libretto. You will play the part of Mlle. Daaè for your big debut. I will see to that." His soothing voice made its way to her ears, appearing as if it were a simple caress in the air.

Behind the mirror, Erik was beaming - something he rarely ever did. Yes, she would play the part of Mademoiselle Daae, and he had someone in mind to play 'The Phantom.' The opera had been written by an anonymous composer somewhere here in America. And only Erik knew who that composer was.

AN:****Please be patient. I promise this will be E/C in the end. Not Mary-Sue not another woman. Please have patience...all will come to rights in the end!

Wouldn't that be nice? Yea I know I'm dreaming now but hey My story, My rules! I love writing. It's the one time I have absolute control... well actually any control at all.


	3. Singing Lessons

Chapter three: Singing lessons

"Now then my dear let us begin!" Erik said, as he "handed" Christine a copy of the libretto. Well, actually he made it "appear" out of thin air via a little "smoke and mirrors" trick of his. "Your first entry is on page one. Do you see where I am speaking of?" Erik inquired, waiting as Christine nodded. "Good."

"Does it begin before you and Mlle. Daaè met?" Christine asked, scanning the libretto over with her coffee-colored eyes.

"Yes, it begins shortly before I met Mlle. Daaè. Now begin!"Erik commanded impatiently waiting for her to begin the first song, which was part of the rehearsal for Hannibal; it was strangely similar to the Andrew Lloyd Webber version.

After she had completed her part in the chorus, she began the part where Mlle. Daaè and Erik first met.

Well, she _tried_ to anyway. Erik continued to stop her and correct her pronunciation, the way she carried the tune, and always attempted to force her sing higher and higher notes. It had become so frustrating! No matter what she did, no matter how much she tried to please him, it never seemed to work! Sensing her frustration, Erik's attempt to make her sit down for a few moments and relax was ultimately successful.

Erik emitted a sigh, saying, "You will never get far if you do not relax, my dear. I am only trying to help you! I know it is difficult, but I can assure you that it is well worth it." His hazel eyes rested on her petite, perturbed form.

With a sigh, Christine nodded, silently guaranteeing him that she was truly comprehending his words of encouragement. Suddenly, the girl realized that she desperately needed to get back to work! No, she didn't need to return to her voice lessons, but she undoubtedly needed to resume her position as the maid.

"I'm sorry, Erik! I have to go. If I don't get back to work soon, I could lose my job!" She said, Christine sputtered, as she rapidly gathered her things. In a few, fleeting seconds, she had rushed out of the room.

Erik sighed, ultimately coming to the conclusion to observe the regular rehearsals. Returning his fedora to the top of his head, he whirled around, his cloak trailing him. By means of secret passage ways he arrived in the main theatre. Carleena was screaming her lungs out. Nothing new here.

'I think I will have her play Carlotta. She certainly acts like the 'famous' diva used to.' Erik thought with a wry smile, his thoughts lingering on the past. 'And they want her to perform as Christine? Ha! The audience would go deaf within an hour! Now, who are they having play me?' His eyes scanned the stage, finding a scrawny boy. He groaned inwardly and rubbed his temples with his slender fingers. 'Oh, no! Not that wretched little boy! He can't sing! Well, not well enough to play my role.'

M. Octavius - or 'Oct.', for that is what everyone had taken the liberty of calling him, was attempting to throw his voice; needless to say, he didn't succeed in this attempt. The only thing that he was succeeding in was going off pitch. Erik winced; perhaps one of his infamous black-bordered letters would be in order. But not yet, of course... He had to guarantee himself that Christine's vocal training went well. He had to assure himself that she would be ready in time to perform as the lead character.

However, Erik didn't believe he had anything to be utterly concerned over. Things were looking reasonably good, and she had unquestionably made progress during their lesson today. Actually, she had made tremendous progress. Christine had hit certain notes that he hadn't expected her to hit for another week - even under his tutelage! Evidently, he had greatly underestimated the amount of training she needed, well it would not happen again.

Mia Geri made her entrance onstage. She had been given the role of Little Meg Giry, and this undoubtedly suited her as well. Erik's eyes remained locked on the stage, as he watched the rehearsal that had just begun. The characters of Christine and Meg quietly conversed. Their 'conversation' consisted of Meg shamelessly begging to know who Christine's tutor was; her pleading soon transformed into frivolous gossip about the 'Ghost'. Christine ignored Meg's gossip and thought aloud about how her tutor, the 'Angel of Music', had appeared to her at last!

The next aria they rehearsed was meant to be performed before Christine and Meg's routine; but something had gone wrong, and the scene had been delayed. It was a simple yet lovely duet between the Phantom and Christine, which informed the audience of her loss of faith in her ability to sing. And even though her father had promised, she never expected the Angel of Music to come to her. She had finally come to the decision to quit singing forever... However, the Phantom, whom was hiding behind the mirror, soon made his presence known by humming a lullaby that her father had taught her long ago. He masqueraded as her Angel of Music! As the scene continued, the Phantom inquired as to what was bothering the girl, trying to console her. Christine told him of her sadness at the loss of her father and that before he died, her papa swore to send her the Angel of Music.

Erik closed his eyes, envisioning his past. He could literally see Christine, curled up on the ground and sniffling. He could vividly remember the girl's eyes light up when he informed him that he was indeed the long-awaited Angel of Music, sent by her deceased father. Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, he listened intently to the actor's and actresses' voices, but he visualized Christine Daae and himself.

"_My darling child why do you weep?" The Phantom questioned._

"_Who is there? Who calls to me? Is it the Angel my father would send to me? Have you come at last?" Christine replied with the hopeful inquiry. _

"_I am here, my child, but why do you weep? Your father has sent me to guide you! Could you have thought that I might never have come? Could it be you have lost your faith?"_

"_Angel, I weep for the death of my father! How could you suppose that I might have lost faith? Beloved Angel, I knew you would come at last!" Christine answered hurriedly, denying that she has lost faith because she is fearful that she should lose her mentor._

And so the aria continues. The Phantom commanded her to return to him every morning for lessons and to never let her heart stray. He told her that she must sacrifice every mortal distraction and give her heart to no man on this earth, but only remain true to him forever. If she failed in this undertaking, he would leave her forever.

It was this aria that Erik and Christine, the young talented maid that worked at the Opera, had been working on earlier in her dressing room. He opened his eyes quickly, thinking that it was nearly time to return to Christine's dressing room. Checking his watch, he discovered that had been right. It _was_ time to return.

During his voyage back to her dressing room, his thoughts loitered, drifting back to the first time he had appeared to Christine Daae in her dressing room as the 'Angel of Music'. The sparkle in her eyes resembled the sparkle in Christine's eyes.

When Erik reached the room, Christine was indeed waiting for him, as he had silently been hoping. Whether he was late or she had simply left her shift a few minutes ahead of time was a mystery to Erik. But neither of them mentioned it.

"Hello, Angel." Christine greeted him with a smile. She had become quite fond of calling him by the nickname from the Andrew Lloyd Webber musical.

A/N: I can take that out if no one likes it.

Should I continue this chapter? That seemed like a good ending to me but it could be continued I suppose.

Once again I swear this will turn E/C Daae in the end!

And lizzzerina, thanks for reading my story, I hoped you liked the chapter.


	4. Of the Opera and what Happened After

**Chapter Four: **

**The Opera and what Happened After.**

The months went by and Christine came everyday, eventually getting a shift at work on the weekends, so that she could use her breaks for her lessons with Erik.

It was strange for him.

With Christine Daaè, he had had to pretend to be someone and _something_ he was not—but with Christine, _this _Christine, he could be himself. They could talk about anything. She knew all about him actually, to be precise all she had read in the books—and yearned to learn the truth of what had really happened to him during those six months with Mlle. Daaè. And though she did not know that he knew of this, the only reason why she did not ask him of it was because she did not wish to anger him.

Soon, the day of the Opera had arrived, and Erik had very little trouble in slipping one of his infamous black-bordered notes into the managers' office.

_**My dear messieurs, **_

_**I have now sent you several notes on the subject, and I must remind you, Carleena is to play the rôle of Carlotta tonight, and Christine Deia is to play the rôle of Mlle. Daaè. I have already informed you as to who is to play the rôle of the Phantom tonight and I know that you will comply. **_

_**Kindly remember to leave Box Five empty for my use tonight. Unless you wish to perform in a House with a curse on it, you WILL comply. If you do not, terrors beyond your worst imaginings will occur.**_

_**Your obedient servant,**_

_**O.G**_

The show was about to begin. Everyone was in their positions, ready to step out onto the stage and begin the performance at the first signal—but no one knew who would be playing the rôle of the Phantom! And, on top of this, there were speculations amongst the cast) that a _maid _of all things was to play the female lead! And Carleena was playing Carlotta!

What madness was _this_!

The Opera house had long held rumors of a ghost, a 'Phantom of the Opera' of sorts,

But many did not believe in the legend. _Yet who else could be responsible for the odd casting?_ everyone wondered.

And where was the male lead!

As it turned out, it was just as well that the Phantom did not appear until later in the first act, as no one could find the man who was to play that exalted star role himself. When it came time for the Phantom's first entry, however…surprisingly enough, there was someone in his place…playing the rôle _perfectly_.

The performance progressed until the scene in which the Phantom led Christine to the underground lake for the first time—and it was not until then that Christine realized, with a stomach-twisting jolt of shock, that the singer was in fact Erik! _The Phantom of the Opera was playing his own rôle! _She was astounded! And there was one other thing that she was certain of—

Erik had written the Opera with only one person who could play the Phantom in his mind—the only person who could have sung with the nuances and tones that Erik sang with—the Composer himself! Erik had cast her in the rôle of his old lover, and then he had made certain that he would play opposite her!

But, why? Why her? Why choose her to play his first love? Could it be that he had chosen her to play his old lover because he intended to make her his _new_ love? But—oh—it was _foolish_ to think such things! Why would Erik choose her, a scrawny little mouse with no voice, to be his love? It would be pure stupidity for her to think so highly of herself! 'Oh God, Christine, you are such a Mary Sue!' she thought to herself angrily.

Erik smiled to himself behind the mask. Christine was here; playing the rôle perfectly and when the performance was over he would take her to the underground house by the lake. True, this place was a far cry from _the_ Paris Opera house…but there _was_ a lake underneath this particular theatre, and he had managed to recreate his house there. And since Christine already knew about him, about his face and everything else…he knew that she accepted it all.

So everything was perfect.

She would learn to love him _just_ as he loved her. This time there would be no mistakes. He had spent months in carefully tutoring her—in slowly, painstakingly gaining her trust.

And soon he would gain her love.

She didn't suspect, did she? he found himself wondering. He risked a furtive glance at her out of the corner of his eye, his visible eyebrow arching slightly. He hoped she didn't suspect him. He hoped that he was right about all of this, after having spent so many years in regret and bitterness, recalling all that might have been... No: there could be no mistakes. He remembered well: in the beginning, he had demanded to be absolutely certain that she was Christine. He had watched her for months upon months on end after she had been pegged as Christine Daaè reincarnated. He had always been interested in tarot cards and such...and he had never encountered mistakes before…but…

_What if he was wrong? _

The show finally—almost mercifully—ended, and when Christine returned to the dressing room that she had so often rehearsed with Erik, she found that he was there, waiting for her! And he was actually standing before her, in person…not hiding behind a mirror…but actually _standing_ before her, in the flesh!

"Come, _mon ange_," he said, suddenly. "Hurry and change—I would like to show you something."

Christine dressed and waited expectantly—then Erik opened her mirror, took her hand, and without another moment's pause led her down a secret passage.

"Where are we going, Erik?" she asked: uncertainty breaking in her voice and words. If she remembered the story…

"Do not be afraid, _ma cheri_—there is nothing that will harm you here," came the reply in her head. Wordlessly trusting him, Christine followed…and as soon as she saw the lake and the boat in the distance, she knew where he was taking her. They were going to the underground house by the lake.

'But that's in Paris!' she thought, her mind overcome by both panic and wonder—and curiosity! '...He must have remade it _here_! Why is he taking me down there? It's impossible that…no! But…could it be…? Does he feel something for me other than the bond of apprentice and master…?'

And with that, they came to the boat. Erik motioned for her to climb in, and once she was seated, he stepped on board and began to row the boat to the opposite shore. As they glided along, Christine softly hummed _Phantom of the Opera—The Journey_, the song from the musical and the scene where the Phantom first lured Christine Daaè to his house beside the underground lake.

Erik smiled to himself behind the mask.

'Good,' he thought. 'She knows where I am taking her…perhaps she can imagine _why_ I am taking her there as well...'

They reached the opposite shore of the lake within only a little while, and Christine shivered as he led her by the hand along the shoreline: just beyond the reach of the water. It was quite cold on the lake and she had not thought to bring a jacket. Swiftly, Erik turned and wrapped his cloak around her, without breaking his stride. Christine smiled at him and murmured her gratitude, keeping her head down so that she could hide the fact that she was blushing.

Soon they had reached the secret door. Erik opened it for her, the perfect and debonair gentleman, and, once they were inside, he briefly turned from her to hang up his cloak.

"Make your self at home my dear," he told her, tenderly. "And feel free to look around if you like—but be sure that you stay away from the little bag by the pipe organ."

And he glanced at the bag.

"The little bag of Life and Death, Erik?" she asked, following his gaze to the seemingly harmless object.

"Why—yes." he said, slightly surprised that she knew of it.

'Fool! She knows all about you, remember? Of course she knows about the bag and the keys! No…she knows of _one_ of the keys. She doesn't know about the key of Life1, I'll wager.'

"Yeah—it was mentioned in Leroux's book _The Phantom of the Opera_. Several times, actually," Christine said, looking around.

Erik visibly flinched.

"'Yeah'?" he parroted, dryly.

She jumped slightly. "Oh! Sorry, Erik! I meant 'Yes'. I'm sorry."

But he waved off her apologies with a graceful gesture of one long, elegant hand. "It is all right, my dear," he replied, lightly. "We all slip up once in a while…but, please, _ma cheri_…for the sake of my sensitive antiquated Parisian ears…_do_ refrain from using that term in my presence."

Christine snickered.

"Very well Erik," she replied, mischief glinting in her eyes. "I shall try to remember that."

A silent beat passed.

"Erik?"

"_Oui, mon petite chéri_?"

"Would you play for me?"

"_Oui, ma cheri_. Always.

_Nighttime sharpens, heightens each sensation,_

_Darkness stirs, and wakes imagination._

_Silently the senses abandon their defenses_

_Slowly, gently_

_Night unfurls its splendor_

_Grasp it, sense it_

_Tremulous and tender_

_Turn your face away from the garish light of day,_

_Turn your thoughts away from cold unfeeling light_

_and listen to the music of the Night..._

_Close your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams!_

_Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before!_

_Close your eyes, let your spirit start to sore!_

_And you'll live as you've never lived before..._

_Softly, deftly, music shall caress you..._

_Hear it, feel it secretly posses you_

_Open up your mind, let your fantasies unwind,_

_in this darkness which you know you cannot fight -_

_the darkness of the music of night.._

_Let your mind start a journey though a strange new world!_

_Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before!_

_Let your soul take you where you long to be!_

_Only then can you belong to me..._

_Floating, falling, sweet intoxication!_

_Touch me, trust me, savor each sensation!_

_Let the dream begin, let your darker side give in_

_to the power of the music that I write -_

_the power of the music of the night..._

_You alone can make my song take flight -_

_help me make the music of the night.._._"_

1 Does anyone know if it was the Key of Life or the key of Death that Erik used to free the Vicomte and the Nadir in the original Novel? If you know please tell me!


	5. Odd Happinings

Chapter Five:

Odd Happenings

Christine looked around herself. Strange…the last thing that she remembered was Erik…and he had been singing to her…

And now all she saw was darkness.

_(Double, double, toil and trouble,_

_Fire burn and caldron bubble_

_Double, double, toil and trouble_

_Something wicked this way comes)_

_What was that? _

She thought that she had heard something, but she couldn't be sure.

_Hmm... How strange._

"Is that…a _mask_, over there?"

Had she spoken aloud? She wasn't sure. Where was she? Where was Erik? This place didn't look like the lair...

As she looked around, the dark seemed to become worse. In an attempt to distract herself from her growing nervousness, she decided to look more closely at the object that she supposed was a mask.

_(Eye of Newt, and toe of Frog,_

_Wool of Bat, and tongue of Dog,_

_Adder's Fork, and Blind Worm's Sting_

_Lizard's leg and Owlet's wing)_

It was indeed a mask, as she had thought—a mask so dark in shade that it looked black. Then Christine saw that it _was_ meant to be white, similar to one of the masks that Erik himself wore at times, when he wasn't wearing his black mask. Christine suddenly knew why the mask was dark.

And she screamed: a loud, long piercing scream, for she knew that as long as she kept screaming, she could keep the awful truth at bay, and out of her heart and mind—

The mask was wet with blood.

Only Erik wore that kind of mask.

That meant one thing: Erik was hurt.

Or worse…_dead_.

_(Double Double toil and Trouble:_

_Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble_

_Double, Double toil and trouble_

_Something Wicked this way comes)_

Why hadn't she been there to help him? What could possibly have happened to him—what could possibly have happened to _her_? Where was he? Was he alive? Where was she?

"Erik! _ERIK_! Where are you? Erik?"

Losing even the faintest semblance of control over herself, Christine chaotically broke down in tears, sobbing and weeping as her heart rent in two, panicked and fearful.

"Mon Dieu…Erik…oh GOD! What happened? _WHERE ARE YOU?_ **_ERIK!_**"

_(In the Cauldron Boil and Bake_

_Fillet of a fenny Snake_

_Scale of Dragon, Tooth of Wolf_

_Witches Mummy, Maw and Gulf)_

"_IT'S YOUR FAULT..."_

"What?"

Startled, Christine whirled around to see who it was that had spoken to her—she stopped short when she saw what it was, and screamed.

"_IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT..." the voice screamed at her. "YOU WANT TO SEE YOUR PRECIOUS ERIK? Oh no—YOU shaLL NEVER SEE HIM AGAIN! AND IT IS YOUR FAULT THAT HE IS AS HE IS NOW!"_

The corpse drew back and laughed: a high, cruel, cold, and maniacal laughter that froze Christine's blood as it ran in her veins.

"Y-you're—you're a zombie…" the terrified girl stuttered.

The corpse nodded as best it could: its broken, decaying neck swinging limply...

"_SOME WOULD SAY THAT..._**_CHRISTINE_**_..." _

"How...how do you know my name?" she asked, her voice shaking with fear.

"_THAT DOE_S _NOT MATTER ..._**_CHRISTINE_**..._WHAT _**_DOES_**_ MATTER IS THAT YOU WILL NEVER SEE YOUR BELOVED ERIK AGAIN, AND IT IS THROUGH NO ONE'S DOING BUT YOUR OWN!" _

The horrible decaying creature started to advance on her, and Christine had no choice but to retreat in terror from the dead menace. But the zombie continued to advance on her…and she continued to retreat until she was standing on the edge of a precipice that dropped into the sea! And as she looked down…she was horrified to see millions of huge black spiders just below: seething in an enormous, writhing black cloud at the very edge of the precipice.

"Please…_please..._why are you doing this?" Christine begged.

"_YOU KILLED ME,_ **_CHRISTINE_**_... YOU DID THIS TO ME. OR DO YOU NOT RECOGNIZE THE VOICE OF ERIK! YOU ARE DEAD, _**_CHRISTINE_**_... BUT REMEMBER MY DEAR, YOU KILLED ME FIRST." _

And the corpse pushed her over the precipice.

( 

Double, double toil and trouble:

Fire burn and caldron bubble,

Double, double toil and trouble:

Something wicked this way come!

Eye of Newt, and toe of Frog,

Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,

Adder's fork, and Blind-Worm's sting

Lizard's leg, and Owlet's wing,

Double, double toil and trouble:

Fire burn and caldron bubble,

Double, double toil and trouble:

Something wicked this way come!

In the Cauldron boil and Bake

Fillet of a Fenny snake.

Scale of Dragon, tooth of Wolf

Witches Mummy, Maw and Gulf

Double, double toil and trouble: etc...

Fire burn and caldron bubble,

Double, double toil and trouble:

Something wicked this way come!)


	6. Every Rose has it's thorns

Disclaimer and A/N:Do I really need a disclaimer? Okay, well this chapter was supposed to be about apologies but I tweaked it a little so I could put in the last chapter so let's see if you like it.

Chapter six:

Every Rose Has It's Thorns,

"_NO!"_

Christine's eyes flew open and she sat straight up in her bed, wide-awake and terrified. But the monsters of her dreams had left her. She was lying in a bed, quite alone…in what could only be _the_ Louis-Philippe room, if her memory served her correct! For she was still within the Phantom's subterranean lair.

"_Mon Dieu_!" she breathed, a soft prayer of relief. "Thank goodness! It was all just a dream! Just a horrible dream! Oh God! What a nightmare!"

Had she screamed in the throes of her nightmare? She certainly hoped not—the sound of her distress would have surely brought Erik running, worried for her safety. Well, he wasn't in the room with her—the bloodcurdling scream that had ripped forth from her lips must have been only a part of her horrible, horrible dream. No, her _nightmare_.

Feeling her-self begin to calm, Christine looked at her clock. It was close to noon. An idea sparked in her mind, suddenly—a mad, mad, and preposterously inventive idea, but an idea that was tantalizing nevertheless. Perhaps she could sneak out, without attracting Erik's attention, and retrieve something from the world above. Quietly, she dressed, and then looked around herself. The door to Erik's deathly chamber was shut, and she couldn't find any sign of his being anywhere else around the house.

Then she saw the note.

_Darling Christine,_

_I hope that you are feeling better, my dear. You had a slight fever last night and I put you to bed. Due to a line of rather urgent errands that I have had to attend to, I had to leave you to your own devices for the time being. Please, make yourself comfortable—my home is yours. _

_I will return around_ _1:00 p.m. Please do not worry; I shall return as quickly as I possibly can, cheri._

_All my love,_

_Erik_

1:00 P.M.

That gave her an hour to do what she needed to do.

When half of that precise amount of time had passed, Christine had returned to the lair, carrying with her a dark red rose.

She had almost been surprised at how hard it was to find the bloom! Learning her way out of the Phantom's labyrinth hadn't been nearly so difficult; she was ultimately familiar with the place, due to her many readings of the Leroux novel. But finding a simple rose, the color of a sinful black-red? Now _that_ had been almost impossible! Oh well—no matter.

Erik still was not home. She could use the time to prepare her gift. Christine made sure that there was no sign that she had left the underground house, and disappeared into her room to take the thorns off the rose. By the time that she heard the door close—signaling that Erik had returned home as well—she was almost done tying a small piece of blackribbon to the rose, making sure that she could make a good presentation of her gift.

Christine tiptoed out of her room. Good. Erik was at the pipe organ composing! Now would be the best time to present her gift.

She crept up to the imposing figure of the Phantom, and attempted to give him the rose by simply dropping it onto the organ keys in front of him.

But something went wrong.

As she reached around to present the rose, the side of her hand knocked against his mask…causing it to fall off in her hand! She dropped the rose and pulled her hand back with the mask in it. No! No! This was all wrong—this was precisely what the other Christines' had done to their Phantoms…and the moment had always ended in disaster! Panicking, she tried to give the mask back but it was too late. Erik had already whirled around with the speed and furious thrashing movement of a wounded animal. From him came words that were enraged and maddened, desperate and heartbroken; his voice had metamorphosed from that of an angel, beautiful and deeply tender…into the hoarse and feral growl of a demon.

"**_Damn you! You little Demon! Now you will NEVER be free!_"**

_Erik I'm sorry!"_

"Sorry? **_Sorry?_** You're **SORRY **for taking my mask? You will have to pardon me, my dear—but it simply does **not** work that way!" Erik growled, taking a menacing step towards her.

Christine backed up, cowed by the pitiless fury in his eyes. "I—I didn't—it was— Ahhhhh! _Ow_! Erik! Help—someone help me! Please!"

Now Erik had grabbed her wrist, and was forcing her further backwards…towards the torture chamber!

"There is no one to hear your cries, my dear," he hissed at her. "Remember that you are five levels beneath the ground! No one can save you from your own mistakes—you must do that yourself!" He spat this last at her, pushing her so that she nearly fell back into the wall.

"ERIK!" she cried out, in one final desperate plea for mercy. Could she make him see reason before—oh no! —Before he could lock her in the torture chamber, in his heartbroken madness? "I—I didn't mean to take your mask! I was trying to gi—"

She bit her lip, suddenly terrified for an entirely different reason. How could she tell this man—this figure of legend and ghost stories—what she had meant to do? But she had only one choice—either summon her bravery and get it over with, and hope that he might relent…or say nothing, and taste his wrath in the form of the horrific torture chamber.

"You were trying to what?" Erik growled at her.

"I was trying to give you something," she said, softly, stammering over her words as her body shook uncontrollably. Adrenaline pumped through her veins, fueled by fear, and her heart was pounding with a relentless cadence. Could he not hear the sound of it himself? "It should be on the pipe organ…Erik."

He released her and turned toward the organ. There it was: a delicate rose bud that was so dark a shade of red that it was nearly black, every one of its thorns carefully and painstakingly removed. At that particular time of the year, blossoms of this kind were very rare indeed.

Suddenly, the remorseless and cruel Phantom of the Opera frowned to himself, slowly beginning to realize what he had just done. She had been trying to do something nice for him; of course, her actions had resulted in a horrible mistake, but she hadn't meant to touch his mask…and he had acted like a monster.

He felt terrible. Worse than terrible.

_Still only a monster, after all this time…_

He turned back to her, holding the rose between trembling fingers, and felt the tears of his bitter grief and self-loathing spring painfully to his eyes. He couldn't even bring himself to look at her. All he could do was stand where he was, and inwardly quake, hoping that he could not dissolve into dust before her.

"Christine," he whispered. "I—I am terribly sorry. I thought that—no—it doesn't matter now."

Seeing his distress, Christine quietly handed the mask to him, and stood beside him for a moment before she spoke.

"Erik…"she began. "I…I should have been more careful. I should have dropped the mask, but when I felt it in my hand, I freaked. I should have kept my wits but I didn't…and I'm sorry."

"Do not apologize to me, _cheri_…" he moaned, turning away from her to hide both his burning face and the world of self-hatred and memory that was surely held within his eyes. "It is I who must apologize to you."

It was some moments before Christine spoke again.

"Erik…why…why did you bring me here?"

He whirled around abruptly, and the ardent heat of the emotion in his eyes burned her soul. She could not look away.

"Oh Christine!" he breathed. "Don't you _know_? I love you! Have you not guessed? I would do anything, _anything_, to make you happy. I swear it!"

She could only gaze back at him, uncertain of how to respond. But she loved him, didn't she? She had studied this man for years! She knew everything about him. She had even dreamed that he would come to her and confess his love to her!

And now that the very thing that she had been hoping for…it had happened…and she didn't even know what she felt! She didn't know what to say!

"My dear…"

His voice woke her out of her shocked daze.

"I think it best if you were to go to bed now…it is late and you look absolutely exhausted."

It_ had_ been an eventful day after all. She had seen his face, received the scare of her life, _and_ been told that a man of myth loved and worshiped her with every fiber of his being.

Christine looked down at her wrist, feeling pain as she returned to normal, human reality. The skin around it was bright red. Erik had definitely done some damage in his anger. He could have broken her arm—and he could have done so without even trying, she was sure. Instantly, he was at her side and taking her injured arm between gentle hands, cradling her wrist to him as if it was the tiniest, most delicate butterfly.

"Oh, my poor darling! Christine, look at your wrist—I have hurt you. That crime alone deserves punishment by death. I am so sorry Christine, my sweetest love, my only angel! I truly am."

Christine looked down and then muttered—

"I think I'll go to bed now. Goodnight, Erik."

She made her escape into her room, and had just donned her nightgown when something near her dresser caught her eye. She looked more closely…only to realize that the 'something' that she had seen was truly a huge spider that was easily the size of her palm! _SPIDERS!_ That was the one thing that she couldn't deal with. It simply didn't work.

She let out a loud scream and looked for something to kill it with.

Erik was at the door in an instant, calling to her.

"Christine! What happened! What's wrong?"

Christine flew to the door and tore it open, throwing herself with unabashed terror into his arms. Clinging with panicked desperation to the broad lapels of his vest, she burst out—

"Oh, Erik! I just—I—there's a _spider_ in here, and I—I mean—_oh_!"

Between fear and embarrassment, Christine was unable to find the words that she sought, and so she merely jabbed a spiteful finger at the giant arachnid. Erik followed her gaze across the room, and laughed.

"Oh yes—we _do_ get quite a few of those here, I'm afraid. As soon as I've taken this one outside, I will look for its mate." He released her—reluctantly, it seemed, as his long hands skimmed warmly over the curve of her waist—and stepped across the room, approaching the girl's eight-legged nemesis.

"_Mate_? What do you mean _its mate_?" Christine gasped, her voice made slightly shrill by panic. She took a step backwards, as if the only room that had spiders living in it was her bedroom—and not any of the other chambers. She looked around herself agitatedly as the Phantom carefully corralled the spider into his gentle hands, speaking to her again as he did so.

"Well—they are usually found in twos," he explained. "With the exception of a few species, of course. Now, go wait in the other room, if they frighten you so much. You know, spiders are really quite useful."

Christine rolled her eyes a bit. What was he now—both the Crocodile Hunter _and_ the Phantom of the Opera?

"I know they are, Erik. But because I have no way of knowing which ones are only interested in mosquitoes and which ones can kill me…I just prefer to keep away from all of them."

"Hmmm..." Erik nodded absently, holding the creature in his hands with care.

She eyed him, askance.

"Uh…Erik? Are you sure that you want to be handling that thing? It might bite you…"

But the reclusive master of the opera house catacombs was already out the door, going to deposit the dread spider outside, safely out of harm's way.

Christine went into the next room and sat by the fire.

_I just know I'm not going to get much sleep tonight. I hate those things! Hmm… This whole venture reminds me of that part of the Susan Kay book… _

She was still shaking a bit when Erik returned from putting out the second spider. He regarded her in silence for a moment, almost seeming to study her as she sat before him, fiddling anxiously with her fingers in her lap.

"You really_ are_ very frightened of them, aren't you?" he asked.

"I know I shouldn't be," she replied, evenly enough. "And I know that they're useful—but I really can't help but hate them! I know that I would just die of fear if one was to crawl on me while I was sleeping!"

"I will give you something to help you sleep, my dear," said Erik, pouring the draught that would help her to dream peacefully.

After Christine was asleep, Erik stood in front of the fire and thought.

"_If you touched me, I think my heart would stop..._

_She doesn't know it but she's answered the question I dare not ask._

_Odd, how fitting that passage from the Susan Kay book is, considering what has just happened. I didn't need to give her so much. She'll sleep for hours now. _

_God…she's so beautiful! I could take her now in this very bed where I was born over a century ago…No! I can't! I couldn't take anything from her that was not given of her free will, then, and I can't do it now. Even though she is in a different body, even though she has died and been reborn. I still cannot bring myself to commit that crime! _

_But I want her so much! _

"And now I have a second chance to have her…she remembers nothing of the past…of Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny…she only knows what she has read, and does not ask about that time, that life, for fear of angering me. Ha! As if such a thing would make me angry!"

He paused, as a new thought occurred to him.

"Now I know why I did not die when I thought that I would—it was because she was going to return to me. And as for that false advertisement in the _Époque_…ah, perhaps I shouldn't have put it in there that day…it was to let her morn me, and move on with her life…and I really did think that I was going to die, that day…"

Erik was so deep in thought that he did not notice that Christine was awake, and watching him…

She had heard almost everything he had said. She had been lying awake. It was true that he had given her a large dose of whatever it was...that was supposed to make her sleep. But she just couldn't, and she heard probably half of what he had said. After a while, she crept silently back to her room and thought about what she had heard Erik saying…

_Even though she had died and been reborn…_

That was the first thing she completely heard and then

"_She remembers nothing of the past…of Raoul, Vicomte de Chagny...she only knows what she has read."_

What could _that_ mean? Who was he talking about?

Could he be talking about Christine Daaè?

"_Died and been reborn..._" she whispered.

"Hmm? Christine? Are you awake?"

Erik had passed by her room and heard muttering.

"Uh…oh crap…" she muttered. "Er…Yes, I'm awake, Erik…"

"Hmm..."

_She didn't hear anything, did she?_

"Are you all right, _mon ange_?"

"Yes, I'm all right, Erik," she replied, stepping out of her room. "I…I just have insomnia…I usually read or watch T.V. or something until I can sleep."

"You mean like on the night we first met?" Erik lied.

He had actually been coming to her room and watching her for a while before that incident, and he assumed that it was his own carelessness that had been the reason that she had been awake when he went into her room.

Now he knew otherwise.

"Yes, that's right," she responded, readily enough. "And now…come to think of it…you never told me what you where doing in my room in the first place! Or how you got in! And then there was that loud crash from the bathroom moments before you came in to my bedroom…"

"All right, _mon ange_—you caught me. Yes, I was responsible for the crash from the bathroom. I got in through a series of tunnels and secret passageways. Don't ask how they got there because I don't know…" he retorted.

"That still doesn't tell me what you were doing at my house or in my room in the first place, Erik," she prodded.

"Er…all right…I'd been using those passages for weeks to see you when you where asleep, Christine! There! I said it! Is your insatiable curiosity satisfied _now_?"

She gave him a triumphant little smile.

"Yes, I am. Thank you, Erik."

He blinked and stared at her. Had he heard her right? He had expected to be yelled at for that—coming into a girl's bedroom while she slept! Surely that deserved punishment of some sort.

"I'd been wondering if you had, Erik. That wasn't the first time that I'd seen you, you know…although I thought that I'd been dreaming, before then," she said, with a small laugh. She knew that he had been expecting to be yelled at. Well, the best punishment was guilt, wasn't it?

"Ah..."

The Phantom was sure that he knew which incident to which she referred. One night he had come in to her room and she had turned over, and looked at him through half closed eyes. It was only for a split second and he hadn't thought that she would remember seeing him. Evidently he had been wrong.

"A penny for your thoughts, Erik?" Christine laughed. He looked as though he had seen a ghost.

"Ah..."

He seemed incapable of intelligible speech as he kept stuttering. Christine laughed and returned to her room. Moments later, Erik followed her example and went into his—but once he was there, he stood in silence beside his coffin for a moment.

"I really ought to get a 'normal' bed," he muttered to himself. "I don't want to frighten her with the sight of a coffin…again. Hmmm…perhaps it would be best if she returned tomorrow. The Company will be missing their 'maid' as well as their newest soprano…"

And he shut himself in his coffin.


	7. Le Passee

Chapter Seven:

Le Passée

"You try my patience! Make your choice!" Erik said angrily for the pressure, the tension and this entire farce had made his temper flare. He didn't want to think what Christine's choice might be, didn't want the boy to have her, didn't want to have to kill them all and bring the Opera house and all the people within to their doom crashing down on their heads! No! He didn't want to do that but if the boy left him no choice he would! But! It was Christine's decision. This was out of his hands.

"_Pitiful creature of darkness, _

_What kind of life have you known? _

_God give me courage to show you, you are not alone" _

Christine Daaè sang with all her heart and soul as she stepped closer to her Dark Muse. They where now facing each other, and as she slowly reached up and brought his face near hers she felt his breath stop momentarily. They stood this way for a moment, before she brought her face closer to his and claimed his lips with her own.

The exquisite pressure of her mouth on his was nearly too much for Erik; to think he had lived half a century on this earth and never known this, this joy… He was numb, he couldn't think, couldn't move; every sight and sound; every feeling overpowered his senses. _Silently the senses abandon their defenses..._ the lyrics of his music came back to him in silent mockery.Tears rolled down Erik's face as well as Christine's. "Go..." He whispered.

"Excuse me?" came Christine's murmured reply.

"_Track down this murder he must be found! Hunt out this animal that runs to ground! To long he's prayed on us! But now we know! The Phantom of the Opera is there deep down below!"_

"_Take her- forget me - forget all of this..._

_Leave me alone- forget all you've seen..._

_Go now- don't let them find you!_

_Take the boat! - Leave me here - go now don't wait..._

_Take the boat - swear to me! Never to tell..._

_The secret you know of the Angel in hell! _

_Just take her and go - before it's too late..._

_Go..._

_Go now - go now and leave me!" _

Erik was wild with panic that the mob should not find Raoul and Christine, mostly Christine. He really didn't care either way about the fop. But so long as Christine was happy he could bear to let them leave. The couple left Erik alone with his misery and the mob. A few weeks later there was an advertisement in the _Époque_ reading:

_Erik is dead_.

Christine was at the DeChagney manor when she saw the advertisement. "_NOOOOOOOoooooo! Raoul! _Mon Dieu! Dear God noooo! **_ERIK! _**" Raoul came racing in only to find Christine sobbing on the floor in front of the Paris news paper.

"What? What is it Christine? What happened? Why did you scream out the name of that monster?"

"Oh Raoul! It's awful! Erik is DEAD!" she wailed in reply.

"I suppose you're going to want to go back and say your last goodbyes I dare say…"

"Yes, Raoul. I must for my sake as well as for Erik's memory's sake," she whispered.

"Very well, Christine. I will go with you. There's no telling what is down there, and I don't want you hurt."

"Oh Raoul! I could never be hurt down there! It's like a second home to me. But if you insist Raoul, then we had best be going." Christine said rising to her feet as tears rolled down her face.

"No, not yet Christine, later. I have things I must attend to first. We will go tonight, when no one will notice us going down there… but you will have to lead the way, Christine, for I've no idea how to get back down to that place."

"Alright Raoul. I will speak with you later then?"

"Yes, Christine later."

"Raoul?"

"Yes, Christine?"

"Since when do you act so much like Philippe?"

"Wha-? What do you mean? I am not acting like him!" Christine rolled her eyes and returned to her room.

She flopped down on her bed and mourned her dark angel. "Erik...Why? Why did it have to be this way? We could have been so happy! Why did you push me away?" That was when she realized it. Erik had not allowed her to make her choice. When she had been about to choose to stay with Erik, he had pushed her away. Told her to leave with Raoul.

"'_Take her- forget me - forget all of this..._

_Leave me alone- forget all you've seen..._

_Go now- don't let them find you!_

_Take the boat! - Leave me here - go now don't wait..._

_Take the boat - swear to me! Never to tell..._

_The secret you know of the Angel in hell! Just take her and go - before it's too late..._

_Go..._

_Go now - go now and leave me!'"_ She whispered the last words she had heard her angel say. The last words she would ever hear that beautiful voice sob.

"_Christine I love you._"

Christine woke with a start. She could have sworn that she had heard Erik speak to her. But no. That was right. He was dead now. Tears came unbidden down her face. Oh God how awful. She remembered the words she once sang for him. "_Sometimes it seemed if I just dreamed somehow you would be here... Wishing I could here your voice again...knowing that I never would...dreaming of you won't help me to do all that you dreamed I could..."_

"Christine, are you awake?" Raoul. His fault. If it weren't for him she'd be happy with Erik. Christine had just had an epiphany. It WAS all Raoul's fault, before he had come along Christine had been happy thinking that Erik was her Angel of Music! "Yes Raoul. I am awake."

"Would you like to leave to the Opera house now?"

"Yes Raoul."

"Very well then Christine." Raoul sighed "Are you ready?"

"One moment!" she replied as she began getting ready, she couldn't believe that she had napped for, God, how long had it been? Four hours? Something like that...

A while later Christine Daaè and Raoul Vicomte de Chagny stepped out of a coach in front of the Opera. To all who saw them it appeared that they were going to see a poor performance of Myerbeer's. It was true that they were going to see the performance, but that was merely a cover. That no one would think that the beloved soprano, and patron, would be involved in any way with the Opera Ghost. Since no one had been able to catch the Ghost, it was assumed that he was still alive.

After the opera Christine led the way down to the cellars, Christine saw the Persian and waved, but he did not see them. If he had, he would have prevented the couple from going to the house by the lake.

When Christine came to the shore the boat was waiting for them. She stepped in the boat as Raoul untied it. They rowed across the lake in silence. Neither spoke. There were no words to say. Christine too wrapped in grief and Raoul too angry that Christine just insisted on returning to this infernal place. How dare she! Finally free and she still insisted on coming back to this infernal hellhole! Insisted on being that _monster's_ **_slave!_** Raoul's angry thoughts were evident by the look on his face.

'How dare he? Look at him...so angry… he just doesn't get it! He just doesn't see that I loved Erik! Oh! Erik! How could you push me away! If I could only see you one last time. Speak to you one last time...And set things right...' Christine bowed her head. Her dress muffled her sobbing as they rowed across the chill water.

Some time later as Christine climbed out of the boat and made her way to the entrance as Raoul tied up the boat. Christine opened the secret door and let out an audible gasp, "Angel!" She cried rushing inside the dark house. Raoul entered moments later and the sight he found astounded him. Christine, tears running down her face, was standing in front of the one man Raoul had hoped to never have to lay eyes on again.

"_Oui, cheri_ I am very much alive. I faked my death that you might morn me and be happy with the boy, and forget about the time you spent with a monster."

"Monster indeed," came a quiet agreement from the door. It was Raoul. "Here as well fop?" Erik inquired rudely, "Then keep quiet...this is between my self and your precious '**_Madam de Chagny_**'."

"Erik! That is not true; Raoul and I are not married. I came here to say my last good byes to a man I thought to be dead only to find him alive and well and _mocking _me!_"_

"No, _ange_, I am alive but not well..." Christine stepped forwards then, and lowering her voice so that Raoul might not hear said, "_Ange_, you did not allow me to choose last time. Erik, please allow me to make my choice, or will you push me away again?" she said.

"Why should I have to _hear _that you would marry the boy!" came Erik's hollow whisper. What next came out of Christine's mouth, Erik could not believe, "'I choose you, Angel." Erik turned and looked at the boy. Raoul motioned for Christine to step away, and leave with him. She shook her head and looked to Erik. "Monsieur de Chagny, Christine has made her choice, she stays with me." What Raoul said next astounded them all, "How can you do this to her? She and I are happy together and you, creature, are nothing but in the way!"

"Creature?" came Erik's incredulous echo. Without a single look at Christine, Erik whipped out the Punjab Lasso and brought it down about the Vicomte's neck, though he did not end the boy's life. Instead he looked to Christine, his eyes so filled with compassion for her and hatred for the boy seemed to plead with her, to beg her to allow him to end the boy's life.

"Go ahead and let him kill me Christine, and be this creature from hells whore! It's above you! Your father is surely disgusted with you Christine, for I most certainly am!"

"Creature...whore...Father!" Christine sobbed falling to her feet. With but a single wave of her hand she signaled for Erik to finish Raoul off. Erik, with a glad twist of the wrist, silenced the Vicomte for good, and turned to Christine and told her that he would both take care of the boy's body. "I will return soon, Cheri. Go to your room, lock the door," With that said Erik reached over, pressed a switch, and disappeared down a secret passage way while Christine looked on, tears welling up in her eyes for her lost friend...

ЖЖЖ 

Erik looked back only once; to be sure Christine had done as he had asked. Mean while he had to do SOMETHING with the boy's body… and he had an idea of just what…

He crept to the DeChagney manor and hoisted himself into Raoul's room. How many times this year had he gone to the boy's house and watched him? How many times had he just stared at him in anger and hatred? Opening the latch to the Vicomte's window he crept inside, wound the sheets tight about the body, and left. All would think that he had hung himself in his sleep…no one would know other wise… it was the PERFECT plan… only what Erik did not know was that something else was waiting to tear Christine away from him… a force that no one could ever fight…

A week after the funeral which Christine had of course attended, Erik told her that perhaps she should take a small vacation… since she was not working at the Opera house at the moment there would be no one to alert as to her absence… he told her of a quiet little town just off the coast… she could rent a summer home of sorts for a few weeks and rest. She had been through a rough array of emotions during the past few weeks, after all. With a relieved look in her eye she accepted and three days later she departed. Only she was never to return from the trip…

One day as she walked along a seaside cliff just outside the village she was visiting, thinking over all that she had been through and all that she still had to do. She had her wedding to Erik to plan, a real house to look in to buying… "Excuse me…" a rough voice rudely interrupted her reverie. "You're Christine Daaè, the ex-fiancé to the late Vicomte de Chagny, aren't you?" a burly and rather scary looking man said.

"Yes… may I help you with something?"

"Yea, you can help me…by getting me a good ransom for your life!" he cried lunging at her. They grappled for a moment, Christine trying desperately to free herself.

"Oh!" Her quiet gasp of surprise did nothing to alert her attacker as the edge of the cliff began to disintegrate, and Christine Daaè, Prima Donna of the Opera Populairè, and beloved of the Opera Ghost, fell to her death in the shallow rocky waters below.

۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴۴

A/N: What can I say? It had to be done. I know this story is under the humor section of Fan fiction. But originally this was a humorous story. But this story is not yet over. The title of this chapter is "Le Passée – The Past" after all… 


	8. The Truth

Chapter Eight:

The truth

Erik sat up nearly tearing the coffin lid off in the process.

'"_Pitiful creature of darkness, _

_What kind of life have you known? _

_God give me courage to show you, you are not alone"_' he heard those words, that tune, over and over again in his mind, it wouldn't leave him alone and then worst of all! The words the boy had spoken to Christine before Erik had finally silenced him. "Go ahead Christine be this creature from hell's whore! It's above you! Your father is must be disgusted with you Christine, for I surely am!" Those words had stung Erik's very soul...he knew the words had hurt Christine but Erik could not stand hearing the woman he loved called a whore.

He had been heart broken when Christine had disappeared, when they had found her body in the ocean, decaying. When Erik saw her he knew that Death had taken her - her beauty, and made her what he was. Erik knew why she had drowned, Christine couldn't swim - she never could, and the only person around had been her kidnapper, whom the police had never found. Erik knew exactly what had happened, Christine had been walking near the sea after Raoul's wake. The wake had been held in Paris of course; but Christine had taken the first train to a townhouse she rented on the coast. She had been walking on the seaside cliff when some goon had attacked her, recognized that she had been engaged to the late Vicomte de Chagny, realized that she could be held for ransom. But Christine had fought back, fought so hard that she stumbled and fell to her death in the ocean below. Erik blamed himself; he shouldn't have advised that she leave, 'get away from it all' as it were. And so, feeling intense guilt and remorse Erik had sought his tarot cards and those who could 'Commune' as it were, with the spirits. And now a century later he had her.

He would have to tell her eventually of course, but not now, not until she was ready. Erik sighed; he had to take her back today. He picked up his mask, put it on and dressed.

Erik walked into the dining area only to be welcomed with the smell of breakfast. "Christine? Are you cooking breakfast?" He inquired, mildly shocked.

"_Oui mon ange_. Who else would be cooking for you?" She laughed…Well…Ask a stupid question… "Erik? I'd like to ask you something."

"_Oui, mon cheri_, what is it?"

Christine bit her lip, and placed their plates on the table as Erik pulled out her chair for her. "I- last night I heard you talking to your self. After you thought I was asleep. I know it wasn't any of my business but...You had said some things...um... 'Died and been reborn' I think that was one of the phrases you used. You where talking about Christine Daaè, weren't you?"

Erik fell to his chair. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. She...She had heard. But she didn't know. She hadn't heard it all. Well perhaps now was the time to tell her. "Yes Christine, I was talking about her. There is something that _I_ need to tell _you_ now. It is time I told you the truth about my past…. about what really happened all those years ago… Ah...where to begin...Well you have read Gaston Leroux's book 'The Phantom of the Opera' have you not, my dear?" he paused and at her nod continued, "I thought so...well that book, and much of Susan Kay's book 'Phantom' tell much of the story. But back to what REALLY happened..."

"Afterwards I went to every psychic and reader of tarot cards I could find, desperately hoping to find her reincarnation. I found her reincarnation less than a year ago Christine. I found her...in you. Now you know what happened. Now you know the truth." Erik heaved a great sigh and waited for what he knew must surely be coming.

The following silence was deafening. You could almost hear it. Christine sat in shock. Neither of them had touched their food. He too wrapped up in telling the story, she too wrapped up in listening to it. "Erik...you say that I am Christine Daaè? How can you be sure? What if you are wrong? What if I am not she? Would you still care for me? Is that the only reason you have shown yourself to me? Because you think that I am the woman you love reborn? _Mon Dieu_! And I thought I had seen some shallow people before Erik, but this! Nothing can compare to this!" Christine threw down her napkin and stomped into her room shutting the door with a deafening bang. The next sound Erik heard was the chink of a lock, and the sliding noise that meant that a bolt was being slid into place. She had locked the infamous Phantom of the Paris Opera from her room but not from her mind. That was one place she did not have the strength, nor the will, to shut him from.

Erik slowly rose to his feet and glided into the library/ music room. He began to play. As he played, he wept, for he could not stand to see her angry. It was true that he had hoped to find the reincarnation of his old love, but now, he realized that even were he wrong about Christine Deia, even were she not the reincarnation of Christine Daaè he would still love her. And now, she had locked him from her room. She wouldn't even speak to him. Erik was miserable.

"_Pie jesu, pie jesu, pie jesu, pie jesu,_

_qui tollis peccata mundi_

_Dona eis requiem, dona eis requiem _

'Pie Jesu, pie jesu, pie jesu, pie jesu' 

"_Qui tollis peccata mundi_

_Dona eis requiem, dona eis requiem"_

Erik began to hear another voice blend with his.

"Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei, Agnus Dei 

_**Qui tollis peccata mundi**_

_**Dona eis requiem, dona eis requiem**_

_**Dona eis requiem,**_

_**Sempiternam**_

_**Dona eis requiem**_

**_Sempiternam_ **"

"_Requiem"_

'**Sempeternam'**

He turned around and saw Christine, "Why were you singing with me _mon ange? _I thought you were angry with me,_ cheri_."

"_Non, mon ange_ I could never stay angry with you for long."

"Christine..." Erik said helplessly. "I am sorry, sorry for not telling you sooner, sorry for making it sound as though I didn't love you for you. It's true you hold her soul, but she, and you are infinitely different, I see that now."

"Thank you Erik, thank you for apologizing, for realizing you had made a mistake, and for being you. I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up."

"No, _cheri _it is alright, you had every right to get 'worked up', as you said." Erik said and then paused for a moment. He wanted to change the subject, and keep her mind off of their fight. And he knew just how to do that. "Christine? Would you like to go out to dinner? And perhaps a movie? I believe that the new 'Phantom' movie is out in theaters."

"You? See a 'Phantom of the Opera' movie?" she replied.

"I've seen all of them, Christine. I find them quite amusing actually. Now, I have a mask of sorts that allows me to go about and look completely normal. A friend of mine who happens to be a plastic surgeon had it made for me.1 But that is another and rather long story. So? Would you care to join me?"

"Of course, Erik!" "Good. As for dinner, I happen to know of a quiet little bistro of sorts that is quite nice." Christine laughed in reply. "What? Have I said something wrong, Christine?"

"Ever formal Erik! Even for dinner and a movie! So, no you haven't said anything wrong, I thought it was funny that's all."

"So what do most people have for dinner when going to a movie?"

"Mmm…. Pizza or hamburgers...if their going out I think..." she replied crinkling her nose not really sure herself, only sure that it wasn't fancy or expensive. "You don't know do you?" Erik inquired with a small laugh.

"Yes I do! I just told you!" she retorted.

"I can see it in your eyes, you do not know!" He laughed.

"Of course I do! And I just told you!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes I do!"

"No, you don't."

"Yes, I do!"

"No you don't."

" 'Course I do!"

"No, you don't."

"Yea I do."

"No. Sorry _cheri_ but I do not believe you."

"What! Yep 'Course I do!"

"No...I do not believe that you do. Do you want to know something else?"

"What?"

"I don't believe you know what you want either."

"'Course I do!"

"Mmmhmm... of course you do..." he retorted sarcastically. "I don't believe that you do, Cheri. You don't know if you should stay here with me, or go back to school and talk to that boy in sociology class! What was his name? Raoul... Challey?"

"How- how did you know about hi- that situation?"

"Remember my dear, I am the Phantom of the Opera...and I have studied and watched you in my quest to find you. It's really no different than when you studied me."

"Of course it is! I studied you through books and didn't even know you were alive! But you! You followed me around?" Christine asked indigently.

"Oh, Christine...We've already gone over this. I told you I suspected who you were and had to figure it out somehow. I can't very well go out during the day and I couldn't have gone up to you as though I were a normal man!"

"What about that mask of yours!"

"Perhaps I did not explain that to you clearly. It allows me to go out at night. The one that might allow me to walk about during the daytime is...on backorder2 …"

"What about plastic surgery?"

"I have thought about that, but my friend told me that there could be complications in my case...complications that might have effects on my voice."

"I see, Erik. So...about that movie?" Christine replied quickly changing the subject. Christine realized that the way Erik's face was disfigured, plastic surgery could affect his voice. His face was scared, and looked like a skull. The scaring went to his throat and looked badly enough that surgery might ruin his vocal chords if the scarring were deep enough.

"Well, my dear the choice is yours. Would you like to go with me?"

"Of course, Erik. I would love to see the movie with you. I have wanted to see it since I heard about it on the Internet some time early in January."

"Earlier this year!"

"Oui, Erik of course this year. It is not yet even Christmas. How could I have-" she paused trying to figure out how to say this very complicated question, of 'How could I have heard of it after today and be talking about it now?' "Uh... You know what I mean, right, Erik?

"_Oui, cheri_."

At that they both started laughing like mad. "Ah, _Cheri_...How are feeling? Do you feel up to a movie? Do you still have a fever?"

"I'm fine Erik, and I don't think I have a fever any longer..." She stood up and went to him so that he could check for himself. "Hmmm...you seem well enough... Alright."

A/N: Ok! I'm in French class now, so my French should be getting better…and as for my Plot…All right, truth is I haven't had a plot from the beginning! I just started writing! My muse is Mad! (Crazy mad not angry mad.) Although I'm sure that Erik is angry with me now for calling him insane… "Damn you AngelMusic for calling me insane!" O.o Yikes! Next chapter next chapter hurry! Wait…The next chapter isn't finished yet... I've hardly even started! Gyaaaaaaaa! Runs away to avoid getting Punjab-ed

1 A/N: Think the masks at the end of the Robert England rated R one in which he skinned his victims.

2 Again think the masks at the end of the Robert England rated R one in which he skinned his victims. That is the mask that is on back order. And the reason it's on back order, for those of you who can't figure it out, is because with out Erik's frightening face I would have no plot. If you haven't seen the aforementioned movie…GO FIND IT!


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Hard Times

It was a few hours later, the movie had ended and both had enjoyed themselves immensely.

"Well I do believe that was the best movie yet…I always did feel that there was something wrong with the musical…didn't you Christine, ma cheire?"

"As a matter of fact Erik, I did…" she replied in a comically pretentious tone, "I could never see enough…I've always been one for detail and that movie gave me all the detail I could ask for… you could see everything. The backgrounds, the costumes…everything."

"Hey…You! Gimme your money an' no-one gets hurt, got it?" A crude voice called out to the couple. The owner of the voice held a small gun in one hand, the sight of which merely caused Erik to arch an eyebrow in scorn.

"_Sir_… I propose another deal – you let the lady and I pass… and then no one will be harmed." Came Erik's reply with a sarcastic drawl on the word "Sir".

"Well! If yer gonna be difficult… we might have ta be gettin' rough with ya… and have a bit o' fun with the lass! Rrrrow! Heh, heh…" Another gruff voice remarked with a derogatory wink and smirk at Christine as he stepped out of the shadows with his accomplice.

"I think not," replied Erik with a murderous glare on his half masked face.

"Well, well, well! Who d'you think ya are? The Phantom himself with a mask like that it looks like! Well then M'nsure! How's about compl'yin' and handn' o'er yer money; unless of course that is you want the little lady to get hurt…"

"I think not, Monsieur. Let the Lady and I pass."

One of the goons pulled out a dagger, which flashed in the evening light. In an instant the Punjab lasso was out and about the hands of the goon with the knife. A quick flick of the wrist and the knife had been dropped.

"-'E ain't 'uman 'e ain't!"

"Run!!!" Shouted the other as he tripped over his own very large feet. It was then that Christine heard the gun go off, seconds later Erik fell to his knees as the goons ran off. The Punjab Lasso lay forgotten on the ground…

"Erik! Oh Erik are you alright?! Oh my GOD Erik you're bleeding!" she cried when she felt the blood on Erik's black velvet dress shirt. Trying not to panic she pulled out her cell phone and dialed 911.

"Hello?! Yes… my – My boyfriend's been shot! We were walking home from the movies when a couple of guys attacked us…."

"Please calm down miss. And try to tell me what happened…"

"One of them had a gun and the other had a knife. Please we're a few blocks from the movie theater. We're near the corner of 3rd and 5th. Please Hurry!!!" When she had hung up she removed Erik's half mask and replaced it with the one that, in the dark, would make him look like any one else. She knew it would not work once they reached the hospital, but for now she wanted no questions. So she gathered up the half mask and Punjab lasso and hid them in her bag just as the ambulance arrived.

"C-Christine………"

"Shhhhhh don't speak Erik. You'll be alright…I know you will. You've got to…for me…" she whispered, tears streaming down her face. After what seemed like an eternity later to Christine, they were both in the hospital. Erik was in the ER and Christine was sitting in a waiting room, a mug of hot cider sitting all but forgotten, warming her hands.

"Miss…?" An officer was standing in front of her. "Are you Miss Christine Deia?"

"Yes…" 

"May I please speak to you…? The doctors have informed me that, who you said was your 'boyfriend' on your call is in fact the Phantom of the Opera. I assume you were aware of this?"

"Yes…I've been aware of this from the very beginning."

"You only turned 18 a month ago…am I correct?"

"Yes…"

"Then your being with him was hardly legal. Er… _Have_ you been with him?"

"Excuse me!? NO!"

The officer laughed.

"It doesn't matter anyways. Not with Erik. He is a special case. But…given his age…he may not make it, miss Deia. I am sorry."

"NO! I won't believe it! Not until I hear it from a surgeon!! No, no, NOOO!"

"Miss Deia…please! This is a hospital. I understand your grief, but if you do not quiet yourself, I will have to ask you to leave." It was the surgeon.

"Is he alive?"

"Yes. But only just. "

"May I see him?"

"I know this must be difficult for you, but I cannot let you see him yet. Come back tomorrow, after school. If he is doing well enough, then you may see him. The officer in the corner there alerted me that you have been out of school for several days due to your stay with Erik."

It was true, she had only been with Erik for a couple of days, but how long she could not be sure, since Erik did not follow conventional nocturnal rules. He slept when he wished it, a rarity, and ate when he wished, even more a rarity than sleeping. When she slept, he was working on his compositions. The first night he had played her a lullaby, and after she had fallen asleep and he had put her to bed, he had worked quietly enough not disturb her. She knew this only because he had told her so the next morning, when she said she had heard exquisite music in her dreams, and had he been playing late into the night?

Christine sighed, her Maestro lay in the ER and she could not go to him. And she was expected to return to school tomorrow as if nothing were out of the ordinary? Why were the Fates and the Eumenidesso against her? She sighed, bid the surgeon farewell, and whistled for a cab.

The next morning, Christine woke in her own apartment surprised to find herself there. It wasn't for a moment longer that she remembered the previous night's events. The movie, the walk home, the mugging -Erik… Erik was in the ER of the local hospital… oh GOD how was he doing?! What- No… she needed to go to school. Had to return some normalcy to her life, at least, Meg could help her. She worked at the Opera house too, she would understand, and was probably the one person Christine could talk to about Erik, without having to resort to a therapist. She couldn't afford one anyways. Shaking her head, she went to her car, a purplish '90 Ford Taurus and drove to school.

Once in homeroom, Christine sat down at her assigned seat with a sigh. Meg hadn't shown yet, and she desperately needed someone to talk to.

"Hello Christine." It was Raoul. Homeroom was Sociology, and he sat next to her. Was his name even Raoul? She couldn't remember… Yes. No…. wait…no that was right, wasn't it?

"Hello…er…"

"Raoul. My name is Raoul, remember Christine? Just like the guy in the play you like so much?"

"Oh… Yeah… I'm sorry. It's just. I'm out of it…someone very dear to me is in the Hospital right now."

"Oh my God Christine, what happened?" Meg. It was Meg…

"He… and I were walking down the street after a movie last night. We were mugged, and he was shot."

"Oh my god Christine! Who? Who was he?"

"His name is Erik…" She made sure to say 'is' instead of 'was', as Meg had done. Erik wasn't dead. Yet. She hoped.

"That tells me a whole lot. I mean was he your boyfriend or something?"

"I… well. I mean nothing was official… I mean he hadn't said anything I mean well…."

"Well do you love him?"

"I…" She did, didn't she? She was in Love with him right? Oh God… she was. What the hell was she doing here? The man she loved was dying in the hospital! She should be there with him! No. Doctor's orders - Go to School. Stay there. Come by, after School.

"Well does he love you?"

"_**Erik…why…why did you bring me here?"**_

_**He whirled around abruptly, and the ardent heat of the emotion in his eyes burned her soul. She could not look away.**_

"_**Oh Christine!" he breathed. "Don't you know? I love you! Have you not guessed? I would do anything, anything, to make you happy. I swear it!"**_

"Well, he said so."

"And how do you feel about him?"

"I… I love him."

"Is it a mortal wound?"

"The doctors don't know if he will live."

"Then what the **_HELL _**are you doing here?! Go to him you Ditz!!"

"But School…!"

"School be DAMNED! **_MR. MARTIN!! YOU NEED TO EXCUSE CHRISTINE FROM CLASS TODAY!!_**" Meg screamed out to the class.

"And why EVER should I do that?"

"In the name of LOVE that's why! The man she loves lays Dieing in the Hospital at this very moment! She should be there WITH him!"

"Indeed she should. Miss Deia, I will excuse you from class today, and gather all you're missing work from your other teachers, and tell them why you are absent, and why you have been absent. Go to him. If he died without you there, it would be quite the tragedy."

"But I…" Should she tell that he had only been shot last night? No… Ready excused Absence. She could sort out the details later. For now, she had to see Erik!

"GO ON!"

She didn't need to be told again. By the time everyone had cleared their ears from the teacher's shouting, Christine was already in the parking lot of the school.

"Is he better today?"

"Yes…"

"Please, sir. I MUST see him."

"Very well, but you must be quiet, and you may only be in there for a few minutes. Do I make myself clear?"

"Crystal."

"Then come along." As soon as the doctor had left her, she ran to his side crying his name.

"Erik! _Ça va_?"

"_Ça va bien, ma cheri_… _Et toi?_" he responded weakly.

"_Ça va tres bien, _Erik I'm so relived your alright!"

Erik closed his eyes, apparently to weak to respond. A few moments passed, and the machine monitoring Erik's heart beat gave a shrill cry. Erik, the Phantom of the Opera was dead.

A/N: Well in case you can't tell that my French is getting better…it is! I'm finally taking French class at my high school! They just got the program this year! Woot! OH yeah, and about the whole death at the end of the chapter. Unless I get some more reviews, cause I know y'all are reading this. I could end this here and now and just tack on a last chapter to clean stuff up. However, IF I get more reviews, Erik will live. Maybe, no promises, we'll see how you review.


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